The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [28]
“What time was she here?” Riddle asked.
“Around eleven p.m.,” I replied.
“Did she gamble?”
“No. She was with two of her friends. They just people-watched.”
“Then they probably hung around the Tower of Power Center Bar,” Riddle said. “It’s a real popular spot with the ladies.”
“We’d like to see the film from the Tower of Power two nights ago,” Valentine said.
“Your wish is my command.”
Riddle’s bony fingers danced across his computer’s keyboard. A surveillance film of the Center Bar appeared on his computer screen. The bar was circular, and situated in the middle of the bustling casino floor. Stamped in the corner of the film was the date and time the film had been taken. It was from two nights ago at 11:00 p.m.
My eyes scanned the bar. Sara Long, Amber Woodward, and Holly Masterson were sitting together, sipping Cokes. I pointed at Sara.
“That’s her,” I said.
“Beau-ti-ful,” Riddle declared.
“Do you see the stalker?” Valentine asked.
I edged closer to the screen. The strange little man who called himself Mouse was not in the picture.
“No,” I said.
“Maybe he’ll show up later on,” Valentine said.
We watched Sara, Amber, and Holly mingle at the bar, then take a stroll through the casino, stopping to watch the different games or when someone hit a jackpot on a slot machine. The three young women were all pretty, and the camera never left them. It didn’t help my cause, because I couldn’t see if anyone was following them.
“Damn,” I said. “I can’t see who’s around her.”
“Joey, can you check the database to see if we have any other surveillance footage of these girls?” Valentine asked.
“Sure thing,” Riddle said.
Freezing the images on the screen, Riddle typed a command into the computer while tossing pieces of bread from his unfinished sandwich to my dog.
“Our system stores all the films taken inside the casino over a thirty-day period,” Riddle explained. “I just fed the images of these ladies into the hard drive, and asked the system to find identical images that might be stored in its memory banks.”
A new film appeared on his computer screen. On it, Sara and her friends were standing at the Hard Rock’s entrance, and Amber was wagging her finger in the face of a small man wearing khaki shorts, a faded T-shirt, and a baseball cap. It was Mouse.
“That’s the stalker,” I said.
I placed my face a few inches from the screen and lip-read. Amber was telling Mouse to leave them the hell alone. Mouse held his arms out innocently while shaking his head like he didn’t understand. Finally he shrugged and walked out the door.
“Want me to see if there are any more films of this guy?” Riddle asked.
“Yes,” I said.
Riddle checked the system, and came up empty.
“That’s the only film of him inside the casino,” Riddle said.
My spirits sagged. The film proved nothing that I didn’t already know. It wasn’t anything I could take to the police to prove my case. Feeling defeated, I looked over my shoulder at Valentine to see if he had any ideas.
“What about films of this guy outside the casino?” Valentine asked.
“There’s an idea,” Riddle said.
Riddle typed another command into the keyboard. The bread from his sandwich was gone, and he was now feeding Buster pieces of meat. The dog sat at stiff attention by Riddle’s desk, avoiding eye contact with me.
“The casino is required to film the grounds in case we get sued for a slip and fall,” Valentine said. “It’s a pain in the ass, but the insurance companies won’t cover us if we don’t. I’m guessing this guy had a vehicle, which might have been picked up by one of the cameras on the side of the building. Maybe we can get his license plate.”
“That would be great,” I said.
“Here we go,” Riddle said.
A film appeared on the computer screen showing the Hard Rock’s enormous parking lot. Mouse appeared, walking toward the back of the lot.
“There he is,” I said.
Mouse’s vehicle was parked in the last row. It was the same stolen maroon Ford minivan he